That - and one other reason
by ladyamethyst21
Summary: A (slightly long) drabble centred around my favourite big blacksmith, Gobber. Gobber is such a great guy, so why didn't he ever get married?My take on the question. Rated K for content, though has plenty feels I hope! One shot.


**This little offering comes from one of those thoughts that pops into your head and then won't go away until you've written it out. In this case, it was a question. Gobber is a great guy, he's got major warrior credibility, a high-level position in the village, close friendship with the Chief and just to top it off, he's Berk's blacksmith so he's pretty well off. So why didn't he ever get married? This is my answer...**

 **This is the shortest thing I've ever written so I'd love to know if you think what was in my head made it onto the page. Reviews and advice always appreciated!**

 **As always; I don't own any HTTYD but somewhere in a parallel universe, it's mine! All mine!**

 **That...and one other reason.**

Outside the door of the Meade Hall on Berk, there is a statue. Behind the statue there is a shadow. No matter how riotous the celebration (and tonight the celebration _is_ riotous), no matter how loud the music (and tonight the music _is_ loud), no matter how high the fire (and tonight the fire is high) and no matter how joyous the occasion (and tonight the occasion could not _be_ more joyous), that shadow is always deep, cold and dark. Outside the door of the Mede Hall on Berk there looms a statue. Behind the statue lies a shadow. And in the shadow stands Gobber.

Gobber is hiding. Hiding from those who want him to join in the singing. Hiding from those who want him to eat and drink and be merry. Hiding from those who want him to share in the congratulations. And he is hiding from his tears. His fist is pressed against the wall, his head is pressed against his fist, his eyes are screwed tight. And, with the whole of his not-inconsiderable Viking body, he is praying.

"Thor, Odin, Freyja, get me through tonight," he silently begs, "Mighty Thor, wise Odin, sweet, sweet Freyja, just get me through tonight. Let me not shame myself, or bring shame to anyone else. Let me make it to the morning and I swear, I will be the best Viking Berk has ever seen. I will be the best tribesman a chief and his wife ever had. Just get me through tonight."

Before, everything had been easy. He and Stoick had played together as kids, chasing Terrible Terrors through the forest and causing havoc. They'd trained together as teens, dominating the Academy, sharing the glory of their first Zippleback kill. And as young men, their adventures had been magnificent. Chasing down Monstrous Nightmares. Fighting off Berserkers. Searching for the lost treasure of Hamish the First. No, they hadn't found it, but what were a couple of toes to such an epic tale? Oh yes, it was Stoick and Gobber, Gobber and Stoick, best friends, boon companions, sword brothers. The Chief and his right-hook man. Then Valka showed up.

"Just tonight, Thor, and I swear I can handle the rest. Odin, help me through tonight and I will never ask your help again. Freyja, this is your area of expertise, take pity on me. Magni, give me strength."

At first, Valka had been just another kid. A lanky streak of snot-nosed, brown haired, dirty-faced, nothing - shouting and brawling with the rest of the brats while the grown-ups did all the work. Gobber hadn't taken much notice of her, nor had Stoick, except that she was always underfoot. But then as time passed, her hair wasn't just brown, but beautifully braided. She wasn't lanky, but tall, willowy. And her face, no longer dirty, became beautiful. She was witty too, intelligent, passionate, fun to be around. Somehow she fitted neatly into their world, the duo becoming a trio, without anyone even talking about it. And Gobber noticed that. Oh yes, even if Stoick seemed oblivious, Gobber noticed that.

"I'll be the most valuable, most useful Hooligan. I'll honour my chief and his wife. I'll kill a hundred dragons. I'll blacksmith until my heart bursts and my leg gives way. I'll give a thousand runes to your temples. Just make it be morning and this all be over and done with."

It was when the Berserkers attacked again that the crunch came. For the first time, Valka was old enough to join in the fighting, and join in she did. Gobber was in the thick of it, sword-swinging, grinning and enjoying himself immensely. He turned to shout that fact to Stoick, but Stoick for once wasn't looking for his huge blonde wingman. He was staring at Valka's uppercut as she took down an enemy warrior with a single blow. The expression on Stoick's face froze Gobber's smile. He had never had any serious expectations or even vague hopes in that direction, never allowed himself, even in the darkest moments of the night to even dream. And that was fine, as long as no-one else had either. If best friends and comrades was what he was getting, _all_ he was getting, then he would take it gladly and thank the gods for their gift. But watching the light come on in Stoick's eyes on the battlefield, as he danced with his new beloved amongst the fallen, Gobber knew everything had changed. And his heart turned to ash.

Fist now clenched white, Gobber is still in the shadow, calling on his gods. "Just tonight Thor, help me for tonight and I swear on your mighty hammer, on the all-seeing ravens of Odin, on the great roots of Yggdrasil, I will be the best Viking in the archipelago. I'll be the greatest support any Chief could ask for. I'll love him _and_ Valka, both of them, for their own sake, and I'll see them happy. I'll support them, I'll aid them, I'll follow their lead and I'll never ever ask to be anything other than their best friend. Freyja, when the children come, I'll be there for them too. I'll teach them everything I know, I'll protect them, I'll love them and I'll help raise them like they were my own. I swear it on my _blood and bone_. Only please, please, please. Get me through tonight!"

"Gobber!" Stoick's voice cuts into the shadow, leaving Gobber exposed, "I know you're in there, you always hide in there, what's the matter man? Too much ale?"

Gobber wipes his eyes one last time, just to be sure, and calls, "Aye, Stoick, that's it. Too much ale, y'know me!" He forces his face to assume its usual, easy grin and steps out into the light. The hand Stoick claps onto his shoulder is huge but gentle, powerful but affectionate and Gobber reels under it. "Well, come on man! We're starting the dancing and Valka wants to partner ye! You can't hide out here all night; a man needs his best friend at his wedding feast!"

"Aye, of course Chief, just taking a minute. I'll be fine now." He clasps Stoick's arm. "Let's put this peg through its paces!"

The two men walk arm in arm into the hall and only Gobber can hear, in the back of his mind, the continued pleading. "Please, please, please!"

The Gods are kind that night. The wedding goes without a hitch. Gobber is the laughing, singing, life-and-soul of the feast, and his burnt-out heart remains strictly his own business. As the days pass, the pain gets less. Thor, Odin, Freyja, Magni – all fulfil their part of the bargain. And it isn't too long before they demand Gobber fulfils his.


End file.
